


Snaps

by Menirva



Series: Blue bells, cockle shells, easy, ivy, over [2]
Category: Dark Knight Rises (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Gen, Kid Fic, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-13
Updated: 2013-03-13
Packaged: 2017-12-05 03:59:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/718640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menirva/pseuds/Menirva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bane likes to help his friends. He wants to help their new friend John, but he isn't sure how.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snaps

Bane isn't sure he likes John, at first. He watches from the back of the line as he shuffles after Talia like a baby duckling. His lips purse together in a small, hidden frown.  
  
It's his fingers. John's fingers are tiny and delicate. There's green grass stains on his nails and a streak of mud disappearing under the cuff of his jacket. Talia can slip those little fingers into her small grasp and pull John along with ease as they follow her. Bane's fingers are too thick and too big. He feels clumsy when Talia holds onto them, and he's too big to be pulled along like John is, Talia’s braid bouncing slightly at the end as she skips.  
  
Bane loves Talia's hair. It's soft and shines in the sun like a halo around her head. Her papa calls her angel when he kisses her forehead. Her mama used to, too. Bane likes to feel it threading through his fingers. It makes him think of a story Talia's mama told them once about a girl who could spin straw into gold.   
  
She lets him put it into braids. They're messy, his fingers are too big and he sometimes pulls too hard, making her suck in a big breath of air and sit more stilly on the floor in front of him. But she never yells or is cross; he is the only one she lets braid it since her mama left.  
  
Now he sees John's tiny fingers and how they wouldn’t pull on a braid or make spare wisps of hair stick out. He sees how he can be pulled along with one hand, and he feels something bad in his tummy. Barsad looks back and slows down. His bright blue eyes peek at him from their sleepy lids. Bane sees that his lips are starting to match them, and his scrawny limbs are hugged against his chest.   
  
Barsad isn't very good at remembering to bring his coat along. He always says he won't get cold, but his teeth are chattering. Bane tugs his coat off and puts it over his shoulders. Barsad is so small it looks like it swallows him up under the thick wool. He makes a surprised noise and his arms flail out until they find the armholes, for all of the good it does; the sleeves drag down past his fingertips.   
  
"You'll get cold," Barsad whispers softly, but he burrows into the coat's warmth.  
  
"You're already cold." He doesn't let Barsad give it back.   
  
He smiles a small smile when he sees Barsad's mouth go pink again and he doesn’t have to hug himself for warmth. He likes to take care of them. He has to. Talia's father says that they all need to look after each other, though Bane knows that he is the biggest and should take care of them all.  
  
But John doesn't look like he needs to be taken care of. He knew how to take care of Barsad's scrapes without Bane and now, when he lets Talia hold his hand, Bane wonders if he knows how to do braids, too. How can Bane take care of them if John is there and small but still knows how to do things?  
  
Talia's papa looks curious when they trail in with John in tow.   
  
"He came to eat lunch with us," Talia explains and holds her hands out for another plate to walk over to the table.  
  
Her papa cups John's chin and asks him his name. John shrinks back uncertainly but sniffs the air with curiosity when he catches wind of the different spices from the big pot on the stove.   
  
"I suppose he will need one," Talia's father agrees after studying John for a moment.   
  
Bane pulls out Talia's chair for her, and John watches him, tilting his head when he does the same for Barsad. He thinks maybe that it's something he can do for John, but John has already scrambled up onto the high seat. His sneakers squeak against the wood as he swings his legs back and forth.  
  
He stares down at the bed of rice Talia's papa lays down on each plate. His eyes go big like saucers when he ladles out a thick vegetable curry on top.   
  
"What IS it?" he whispers, like he's never seen the sort of meal they have together for lunch each day, warm and filling and good for giving them energy for playtime after.  
  
"Lunch," Talia says in a matter-of-fact tone.   
  
"I've never seen lunch like this." His eyebrows furrow skeptically.   
  
"What do you eat for lunch?" Bane asks.  
  
"Chicken nuggets... sometimes."  
  
Bane wonders where John was going to get chicken nuggets for lunch on the playground.  
  
"It's good," Barsad promises, and John finally takes a little spoonful, popping into his mouth like a baby bird. He gobbles after and gulps down the glass of milk he gets.   
  
"It’s HOT, but I like it," he decides, and his plate is scraped clean. "I can have more?" John asks in surprise when seconds are offered.   
  
This one he eats slower, mimicking Talia’s motions when she rolls the sticky rice into little balls between her fingers and dips them into the curry before popping them into her mouth. When he cleans his plate again, Bane has finished his second, as well, and Barsad and Talia have just finished their first. Both of them look full.  
  
"Would you like a little more, John?" Talia's papa asks. Even though he is very busy, he always eats his lunch with them. John bobs his head eagerly and Barsad and Talia giggle. Only Bane ever asks for thirds. John scrunches down in his chair at their laughter, his face suddenly sullen and flushed a hot red. Barsad and Talia stop, not understanding but seeing their new friend is upset when he pushes away his plate and sinks down behind the edge of the table.  
  
Bane understands. He knows what it feels like to be hungry, like there's something empty resting inside of one's tummy. Before Talia's mama found him, there hadn't been seconds or thirds, sometimes there weren't even firsts.   
  
He can't remember much from before, but he remembers sitting in the sun, his belly rumbling and aching as he traced his fingers into the dust, a pretty face smiling at him and taking hold of his hand, asking if he would like supper, while a little girl peeped out at him from behind her mother's skirt. He had shaken his head, too shy to speak, until she held out a piece of her orange. He'd snatched it up, afraid it would get taken away, and sucked at the sweet treat while she gathered him to come along, the little girl petting her small hand against the short crop of sandy brown hair on the top of his head like one would a kitten.   
  
Bane sets his spoon down. "May I have thirds?"   
  
"Of course, Bane; I believe today I will have thirds, too," Talia's papa says as he ladles out a little more. John's soft brown eyes watch Bane's as he picks his spoon back up and murmurs a small thank you before he eats.  
  
John scoots his plate back and they eat thirds together.  
  
Bane still isn't sure he likes John, but he makes sure he doesn't want fourths, just in case.  
  
After lunch, they race into the bedroom where they show John some toys before Barsad asks if they can play princesses. It has been Barsad's favorite for the two weeks since they thought it up. John makes a face until Talia brings up the topic of what will be used for monsters, and then his eyes light up with interest.  
  
Barsad scrambles up onto top bunk where he and Bane sleep, calling for John to come be a princess with him.  
  
"Why isn't Talia the princess?"  
  
"Because I want to be the knight with Bane."  
  
Bane smiles. They've decided on stuffed animals as the monsters this time, instead of him. He likes being the protector more than a monster, but he'll be a monster for them if that's what they need.   
  
Barsad has convinced John to come up with him, and they burrow under the covers and peek over the edge of the bunk, the tower they're trapped up high in, as Bane and Talia wrestle with the fierce fluffy creatures below.  
  
"I want to fight!" John calls down, gripping the wooden edge and watching as Talia mercilessly tramples a stuffed owl beneath her bare feet.  
  
Bane can hear Barsad shifting aside the covers. "We fight with THESE."   
  
The room dissolves into giggles as balled up socks rain down from the bunk. Barsad has been hoarding them, his secret ammunition against the monsters below and he wields them with deadly accuracy, knocking a pink lamb clean over on its side. John's air assault is more volatile, and Talia only eeps and laughs when she gets bopped on the head by mistake.  
  
Soon the princesses are freed and they end up in a pile on the shaggy carpet, wrestling and playing. Bane is careful when he helps Talia and Barsad spin and do somersaults and tumbles in the cleared space how they like, growling and holding them tight when he flips them over his head and onto the bed while they squeal.  
  
When Talia announces that it's John's turn to be flipped, Bane holds out his hand to take John's smaller one obediently. John squirms around a little uncertainly. Bane has seen him get more antsy as they play, but now he's practically bouncing.  
  
"John, the bathroom is right across the hall," Talia says knowingly, holding her hand over her mouth so she doesn't hurt his feelings again by laughing.  
  
John races out of the room.   
  
They go back to wrestling on the floor. Barsad and Talia fell him together, clamoring over him and tickling his sides until he's squirming and curled into a giggling ball of breathless laughter. Before they let him up, Talia pets her fingers through his hair and Barsad squirms close in that way that says he wants a hug but he won't ask. Bane wraps his arms around him and then Talia before realizing John has been gone for a long while.   
  
He leaves them to check on him as Barsad and Talia start to play with blocks. There's a sad, frustrated noise behind the door to the bathroom. Bane wiggles the door handle.   
  
"D-don't come in. I can get it!" John yelps out.  
  
Bane waits until he hears a little sniffle. "Let me come in."  
  
The door clicks open, and John stands facing him, his pants up and the zip right, but fiddling at the ends and looking upset.  
  
"Daddy always does up the snaps," he whispers in hushed embarrassment, his bottom lip between his teeth as he fumbles with the thick material. His slim fingers are not strong enough to force the stubborn metal to click into place.  
  
Maybe he can help take care of John, too.  
  
"Let me."  
  
John nods and tugs his shirt up out of the way, sucking in his tummy so Bane can force the tough snaps to click together with his thick, strong fingers.  
  
John breathes out a shuddery little breath of relief. "Thank you, Bane."  
  
Bane ducks down and kisses his forehead before they go back to play together.  
  
He decides that he likes John.

**Author's Note:**

> http://relevantlyirreverent.tumblr.com/


End file.
